


Are you feral or tame?

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jonsa Smut Week, No White Walkers, jon still died, jonsa baby, political stuff is still canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 03:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15476922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: As the full moon disappeared, so did the desperate need for her.He still desired her, still stared at her longer than was acceptable. But he had no fears that he would be driven from his chambers to hers to take her like he had wanted to when the moon was full.He was frightened by how much he had wanted and needed her. In that short time, he had felt more wolf than man, consumed with the need to claim her as a mate. And when he wasn’t frightened by this new development, he instead felt as though he would vomit at the fact he had succumbed to such blatant desire for his sister.Half, his mind would comment.Jonsa Smut week Day 1: Get a little wild





	Are you feral or tame?

**Author's Note:**

> So I took this prompt as an excuse to write wolfy post-rec Jon. He is pretty much old Jon most of the time except at full moon he succumbs to more animalistic instincts ;)
> 
> Also, I have no idea how often full moons happen or anything astrology related so I just made shit up to suit the story. Sue me :p
> 
> Title from Domesticated Animals by Queens of the Stone Age.

It was only when Sansa had been reunited with him that he first noticed that, perhaps something had changed inside him with his resurrection.

He remembered being inside Ghost for a time, and then coming back into his own body when Melisandre revived him. And though he had feared that he would become a more violent person due to his time in his wolf, he had been relieved to note that, other than his justice to those who had killed him, he had not had any bloodlust or darker tendencies.

When Sansa came riding through the gates of Winterfell, Jon felt as though he had been struck. And holding her in his arms when she ran to him, it felt like Winterfell was truly home once more.

Her betrothed had been killed in the battle but Littlefinger had unfortunately survived. Jon didn’t know why he disliked the man, he just had a feeling that he should not be trusted.

When the full moon came, he noticed the change in him.

He had been in the solar with Sansa earlier in the day though she had gone to her chambers not long before the sun had set for she had wanted to bathe before having supper and going to bed.

Going to the torches to blow them out, he had caught her scent. His brain was foggy at the smell and he was shocked at the sudden desire that coursed through him. Frightened at the intense feeling in his gut, telling him to go to her now, he had stumbled across the room and told the guards outside to lock his door and not let him out until morning, no matter what he said or did.

Perplexed at his urgency, they had done so and Jon had collapsed on the bed. Tossing and turning he found no relief as he imagined Sansa here with him. He knew he couldn’t have her, didn’t understand why he wanted her so much when they were half siblings. But his brain imagined her cunt as his hand wrapped around himself all the same.

***

As the full moon disappeared, so did the desperate need for her.

He still desired her, still stared at her longer than was acceptable. But he had no fears that he would be driven from his chambers to hers to take her like he had wanted to when the moon was full.

He was frightened by how much he had wanted and needed her. In that short time, he had felt more wolf than man, consumed with the need to claim her as a mate. And when he wasn’t frightened by this new development, he instead felt as though he would vomit at the fact he had succumbed to such blatant desire for his sister.

 _Half_ , his mind would comment.

***

Bran arrived a few days before the next full moon.

His explanation of Jon’s parentage was calm and to the point. Jon was Lyanna and Rhaegar’s son, not Ned’s.

Sansa clasped his shoulder as he fell back against his seat in shock. He had blindly reached for her fingers, needing to seek her comfort. She hummed softly, wrapping both her arms around him and clasping them to his chest.

“You’re still a Stark to me,” she promised.

"To all of us," Arya added firmly.

“You should marry,” Bran stated simply. “Then Jon can truly be a Stark.”

_Then you can have her at last._

“No,” Jon stated quickly, panicking from his thoughts.

“Yes,” Sansa said at the same time.

They turned to each other and Jon supposed he must look as surprised as she did although he likely didn’t have the hurt look in his eyes that she did. He swallowed, ashamed at hurting her feelings.

“I just…I wouldn’t force you,” he explained, trying to backtrack. Sansa blinked slowly.

“You wouldn’t be,” she assured him after a moment. “I choose you. You’re the best person I could marry because you won’t take Winterfell from me.”

"Aye," he agreed. He sat back in the chair, glancing at Bran for a second before clearing his throat. "Sansa. You know that we would have to... have children."

"I am aware," she replied. Her fingers picked at her skirts as though she was gathering courage before she met his eyes. "I'm still a maid."

"I wouldn't think less of you if you weren't," he assured her. He hoped his smile was reassuring and not the mere twitch he had been known to give. The soft expression she gave him in return made him think he had succeeded.

***

After their private discussion, they had declared the plan to the Northern Lords and decided hat the wedding would take place in a month. But Jon had to get through another full moon a mere two weeks before then.

And as though the universe was testing his resolve, Sansa seemed to be concerned for his health as he escaped to his chambers. She would knock gently on the door and ask if he was alright. Jon would bite his teeth into the pillow to keep from whining, using every ounce of restraint to not go to the door and pull her inside.

He tried to sleep but would wake in the night from a dream of her, her soft cries of pleasure still echoing in his head and he would rut against his furs in desperation. He would wrap his hand around his cock when he woke in the morning hard and her scent clear outside the door as she left food for him.

At one point, to his horror, he had made it halfway across the room with the intent of telling the guards to unlock his door. He had managed to reign back and return to his bed. He wouldn't take Sansa like this, he would never be able to forgive himself.

He knew he would have to tell Sansa the truth at some point. He wouldn't be able to hide away every month when they were married. And, she had to be prepared for the fact that he might be rougher with her in these times, he may not think clearly and only be focused on fucking her.

In the morning, he summoned his steward to have a bath prepared and tried to wash away the shame of the night. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he heard his bed being stripped. There was no mistaking what was on the sheets. 

The steward at least knew better than to comment and Jon let out a long breath as he heard the door click shut.

***

"You look beautiful," he commented honestly when she stepped beside him beneath the heart tree.

She wore a dress of white silk, the colour of the weirwood trees, the bodice decorated with pearls that glittered like snow in sunlight. Her hair was mostly down, cascading over her shoulders in waves but some had been tied in a braid down the middle of her hair to keep it from her falling into her face.

Her cheeks tinged a little pink from the compliment as she thanked him.

The feast passed in a blur as his nerves kicked in. He remembered Arya chuckling and nudging his shoulder teasingly when he stood to take Sansa's hand and lead her to the floor for their official dance as man and wife. He had never been much of a dancer. Being the bastard child, he had not been required to learn the basics like Robb had. And of course, Sansa and Arya had lessons all the time, although Sansa enjoyed them far more than her sister. 

He kept telling himself that he had no reason to be nervous, he knew what he was doing. Ygritte had liked it well enough, he supposed. Especially when he had kissed her between her thighs. But he supposed it was because it was Sansa and Sansa was not Ygritte. 

When the Lords called for the bedding, Jon gripped his goblet tight and glared across the room until the shouting had died down and the men had returned to their chairs with a disappointed grumble. Setting his goblet down, he stood and held his hand out for Sansa to take.

As they walked across the floor, his eyes met Petyr Baelish's and Jon felt his lips curl in a snarl as the man's eyes roamed over his wife. The sudden feeling of hatred had frightened him and for a brief second he wondered if there was a full moon until his brain registered that there wasn't.

"You seem nervous," Sansa commented as they stepped into their chambers. She clasped her hands together in front of her as she turned to face him. "Are you...have you done this before?"

"Yes," he replied. "But I feel more nervous with you."

"Why?"

"Because, I want to be worthy of you."

She smiled softly, stepping up to take his hands and kiss his cheek. "You are," she promised. "You are the man father promised me. Brave and gentle and strong."

He returned her smile and kissed her gently on the mouth. She hummed in approval, wrapping her arms around his waist to pull him closer as his hands cupped her face. He deepened the kiss as his fingers toyed with the laces at the back of her dress.

Her hands slid up his back, the soft touch making him moan. Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers and took a moment to take her in. She gave a nervous smile but her eyes were wide and dark with desire. Her hands moved to the front of his shirt and then down to the bottom, tugging up in silent request.

He stepped away from her to pull it up over his head, tossing it blindly to the side before he cupped her face and dived in for another kiss that made her giggle against his mouth. His fingers returned to the laces at the back of her dress, tugging them until the material gave way and started to slip from her shoulders. She broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, her cheeks colouring as the dress fell away to leave her in just a shift.

"I would like to try something," he murmured as he slowly started to guide them backwards towards the bed. Sansa blinked up at him as her back hit the covers and the trust in them made his heart melt.

"What is it?" she asked, watching him untie his breeches with a nervous lick of her lips. Jon smiled, cupping her cheek gently.

"It is better that I show you," he replied. "I have a feeling you'll like it though."

***

He groaned as he awoke, his arm reaching out to pull Sansa closer to him. She made a soft moan in her sleep, which made him smile against her shoulder and he watched her nuzzling her face in the pillow. 

It had been a week since their wedding and he had spent every night with Sansa. He had spent some afternoons with Sansa too, escaping back to their chambers for a quick session between their other duties.

They had engaged in sex in the mornings a couple of times too, when they had woke up entangled in each other and she had kissed his scars, her fingers toying with the course hairs that led down to his waiting cock until he rolled her onto her back and made love to her until she clutched him desperately and sighed his name against his skin.

This morning though, his need was stronger and he had known it was because the full moon was upon them. His teeth scraped against her shoulder as his hand stroked up and down her thigh. He groaned as he felt the heat from her, his hips shifting instinctively against her ass.

"Jon?" she murmured sleepily, her back arching against him as his fingers inched closer to her sex.

"Morning," he whispered, giving her shoulder a playful bite and grinning when her breath hitched in pleasure.

He finally moved his fingers up, groaning as they were met with her slick heat. Sansa gasped, fully awake now as she moaned and circled her hips to meet his touches. Jon hummed in approval, nosing at her hair, scraping his teeth against her ear.

"You are so beautiful like this," he whispered, rubbing her clit in teasing circles which made her whine with need. "And all mine."

He lifted her leg over his own and pushed forward until he was buried to the hilt inside of her. Sansa gasped, her hand grasping his wrist as she arched her back to accommodate him and the new position she was unused to.

"Shhh," he murmured, stroking her thigh soothingly.

As she relaxed around him, he started to move. His hands wandered, grasping her breasts and sliding down her quivering stomach. He reached up to cup her face, angling it back so he could claim her mouth in a messy kiss that left her gasping when he released her.

"Lets not leave the bed today," he said, nipping her shoulder again and then licking at the slight mark they had left. Sansa moaned around a laugh.

"We can't, ahh, do that Jon, mmm."

"No, I suppose not," he sighed.

***

Baelish gasping around the hand at his throat was far too good a sound to Jon in that moment as he held the man against the wall.

"If I catch you looking at Sansa like that again, I'll take your eyes myself!"

Sansa had told him of her time in the vale, fearing that Baelish would come to her chambers one night and force her to lay with him. Or, perhaps he would have waited for her to marry so he could take her and all her claims to the land as well.

He had intended to slip up to his own chambers unseen, feigning illness as he battled through this latest full moon. But Sansa had appeared in the corridor and blocked his path.

"I appreciate that you were trying to protect me," she stated calmly. "But honestly Jon, you can't go around choking people."

"Sansa," he groaned, feeling his cock stir at her proximity, her scent invading his brain. "Please, I...I need to..."

"Are you alright?" she asked, peering at him curiously.

He growled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her flush against his chest. His other hand buried in her hair as he pressed his mouth roughly on hers, teeth nipping at her lips until she opened them to allow his tongue to plunder her mouth.

"Jon, what are you doing?" she gasped as he pushed his door open and they moved inside.

Jon didn't reply, only tugged her back to his waiting mouth as his hands grasped and tugged at her dress. He grabbed her hips, turning her so her back faced his desk and she broke the kiss to throw a confused look over her shoulder before looking back to him.

Perhaps in his right state of mind, he would feel bad about ruining her pretty dress but Jon was consumed with need and instead, his fingers gripped the front of her dress and pulled so hard, the material tore and her breast spilled out. Sansa squeaked in surprise, looking down at the ruined garment in shock.

"I need you Sansa," he groaned, nuzzling against her pulse point like a wolf scenting their mate. Her breath hitched but her neck tilted back in submission and he smiled in victory.

He turned her around, nudging her towards the desk. He pressed on her back gently, easing her into position over the desk while his other hand gathered her skirts to her waist and grabbed her smallclothes, tugging them down to her knees.

"Mmmm," he sighed as he pushed inside of her, his hands moving to lay flat on the desk above her own as he placed kisses against her shoulder and along her neck. Sansa moaned softly, her head moving to the side to allow him better access.

He shifted his hands then, one grabbing her hip to guide her movements as he started to move. The other fondled her breast, cupping the flesh and brushing the pad of his thumb against her nipple.

"Gods Jon!" she gasped as he pounded into her so hard the desk rattled against the wall. He hummed in agreement, his eyes dropping to watch himself fucking her and his breath hitched at the sight.

He had never been rough with her before now. Every coupling had been sweet and gentle, the way Sansa deserved from her husband. But he couldn't be gentle now, no matter how much he wanted to be. His body was telling him to fuck, to claim, to put his babe in her.

Sansa groaned, high and needy and he smirked as he recognised the signs of her approaching release.

"That's it Sansa," he growled, licking a stripe up her neck. "Show me you are mine sweet girl."

She whined, her back arching in a tight bow as she tensed, her cunt gripping him tight enough he had to clench his eyes shut to maintain control. As her breathing evened out and she relaxed against him, he slowly started to move again, his fingers dropping down to rub at her clit.

She squirmed, her eyes wide with confusion as they met his. Jon shushed her, pressing harder against her nub until she started to squirm and gasp in pleasure, a second climax taking her over quickly.

Jon groaned, biting his lip in desperation as he was griped for a second time. Somewhere in his mind, he was grateful for the new stamina he seemed to have with the full moon, ensuring that Sansa was thoroughly pleasured a third time before he released inside of her and collapsed on top of her on the desk.

"What was that?" she murmured after a moment. 

Jon watched a drop of sweat slide down from her temple to her chin and instinctively, his tongue moved to lap it up. Sansa moaned and Jon felt his cock stir again at the sound. 

"Fucking," he commented when she looked at him for an answer to her question.

"I know that," she sighed, moving to stand. Jon huffed, his cock now hard and ready for another round. Yet his mind had cleared a little, enough that he could actually talk a while before he succumbed to his need once more. "I meant, where did it come from?"

Jon took a deep breath. "I was going to tell you, I swear."

***

"He is a wild little thing isn't he?" Arya commented as she peered into the crib at her nephew.

The babe kicked at the covers with a huff, his fists thumping against the bedding in annoyance of being put down for a nap. Three moons since he was born and Robb was making his personality clear for everyone. There was no doubt that he was a wolf through and through.

Sansa caught Jon's eyes in the mirror, a small smirk on her lips.

She wasn't going to tell Arya that she thought Robb's conception was likely something to do with his wild personality.

 


End file.
